


i can't be no superhero (but for you i'll be spider-man)

by obeylarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs in closets, Bottom Louis, Fluff, Gay, Gay Sex, Harry and Louis - Freeform, Harry is a single father, Louis is his son's teacher, M/M, Minor Angst, Rutting, Sex, Smut, Snogging, Spider-Man is really Louis, Teacher Louis, Teacher/ Parent, Top Harry, doesnt mean they arent versatile though, father harry, harry - Freeform, hmmm what else, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis - Freeform, louis in spandex, ok thats enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obeylarry/pseuds/obeylarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a single father who has a son with some issues. Sometimes Louis dresses as spider-man. Spider-man is Lloyd's hero, but then again, maybe Louis is a bit of a Superhero as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can't be no superhero (but for you i'll be spider-man)

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is my first fic on archive of our own, but I've written fanfictions before on Wattpad so this shouldn't be too terrible?

_Imaginary friends are an especially compelling and involved form of pretend play,_ Harry reads. His hands are chillingly cold against the warmth of the laptop balanced between his quivering knees. He chews his lip out of a mindless habit, nervous and anxious and overall tired. The need to just understand is too loud in his pounding head, though, so Harry swallows the lump in his throat and forces his eyes to continue reading the words on the bright screen.

_Having an imaginary friend is not evidence that a child is troubled. However, imaginary friends can be a source of comfort when a child is experiencing difficulties. There are many case studies of children inventing imaginary friends to help them cope with traumatic experiences-_

Harry holds up a mental white flag as he realizes that the effort he's putting forth into staying awake is useless unless he can actually process what he's reading. His brain is too fried at the moment from lack of sleep. Harry has to be at work early tomorrow, which, according to the tiny, white numbers at the bottom of the screen, is in four hours. Thrilling.

The laptop makes a rhythmic dinging noise as a goodbye and then the screen is drained into an ebony sleep. He treads his fingers through his knotty fringe and winces as his teeth nip through his lip.

The bitter taste of blood is present on his tongue as Harry pads quietly down the short length of the hall and peeks into the cracked bedroom door. To his surprise, Harry doesn't find a sleeping lump under the covers.

Instead, the boy is wide awake atop the ruffled Spider-Man bedspread draped over his small bed. Harry sighs and closes the distance between them to see that he's coloring a page with Spider-Man on it.

The bed gives as Harry sits down, the variety of Crayons gravitating down the declining space and rolling to his thigh. Harry doesn't get an acknowledgment of any sort from his arrival.

"Whatcha doin' Loy?" Harry rasps affectionally, his voice thick with the longing to sleep. It's only when Harry runs his fingers through Lloyd's curly hair that Lloyd looks up at Harry, eyes curiously observing Harry. It's like he's a new species to Lloyd.

"It's time for bed, don't you think? I told you to go to sleep hours ago." Harry observes Lloyd's artwork, surprised to see that the splashes of color have yet to escape the thickly-drawn black outlines.

"Spider-Man," Lloyd protests, his tone nearing a whine.

"Even Spider-Man has to sleep." He huffs in annoyance directed towards Harry. He watches as Lloyd's eyes scan the room, as if searching for something.

"Do you see Spider-Man now?" Harry asks, the chewing on his own lip continuing.

At first this obsession with Spider-Man was cute. The longing for the Spider-Man themed lamp at Walmart, the refusal to eat anything for a week but Spider-Man shaped pancakes and cookies with red webbed masks on them.

Harry was worried when Lloyd started school a month ago for the first time in his life. He's only four, and Harry had the option of enrolling him in school this year or waiting another year. After a long look at Harry's double-digit bank account, he realized that spending another year as Mr. Mom just wouldn't work out financially.

Lloyd befriended "Spider-Man" during the first week. He came home talking Harry's ears off about his new friend, and at the time Harry didn't think anything about it. Lloyd has never been good at making friends, so it seemed like a positive side of being around children his age.

And how was Harry supposed to be aware of how far this would escalate? Lloyd never stops talking about Spider-Man now. It's the only thing he thinks about at night and the single thing on his mind when he wakes up in the morning.

"No," he mumbles and a faint flash of hope sparks in Harry before Lloyd speaks again and that spark is diminished immediately. "Only at school."

Harry closes his eyes and wills patience to wash over him.

"Lloyd. Bedtime." Harry nearly cringes at the level of authorization in his voice.

Lloyd yawns, his eyes fluttering. Harry takes the opportunity to slide the coloring book out from under his hands and to corral the stray crayons into a pile that is then transferred to the nightstand.

"Come on, buddy." Lloyd allows Harry to lift him into his arms. He's light enough for Harry to only use one arm to support him. The other hand reaches out tactfully to pull the decorated covers back.

Harry lays him down and tucks Lloyd into bed. Lloyd's eyes shut into a peaceful rest as he begins to drift into unconsciousness, another yawn forming on his lips. The Spider-Man lamp clicks as Harry turns it off with the beaded string attached to the heated lightbulb. The room immediately goes dark except for the bit of light trickling in from the hallway.

Harry plops down on the hard wooden floor, his back resting against the side of the mattress. A small hand tangles itself into Harry's hair, and despite his exhaustion Harry smiles.

"Goodnight Loy," Harry whispers. "I love you."

He's met with a pew, pew sound, and even in the dark Harry knows that Lloyd's got his middle and ring fingers tucked into his palm, mimicking his favorite superhero.

\---

Harry shows up to the school thirty minutes early, if only to make sure that Lloyd remembers to not ride the bus home today. Harry hates making him ride the bus, knowing very well how Lloyd only plays with his Spider-Man action figures by himself, but with the absurd hours Harry spends at work he was left with no choice.

And it's not that Harry doubts Lloyd's memory. He is just well aware of how Lloyd tends to tune out on things sometimes.

Sure enough, Harry finds Lloyd waiting in line at the bus extraction. With a sigh, he takes Lloyd's hand and leads him away from his fellow classmates. Harry tries to not dwell on the sight of multiple groups of friends chattering excitedly with each other and Lloyd sitting aside quietly by himself.

Harry pauses to gather the comics from Lloyd's arms and slide them into his backpack.

With everything now under control, Harry can relax. He reaches for Lloyd's hand only to be rejected by his son.

"You can continue reading in a bit, okay? Right now we get to go talk with Mr. Tomlinson," Harry explains to Lloyd's pouting expression. He leaves out the part about discussing the negative effect Lloyd's imaginations have had on his schoolwork.

His teacher, Mr. Tomlinson, had readily agreed to meet for a discussion about Lloyd. Harry had left out the details over the phone, but his concern about his child was clear. The man seemed happy to be of help.

"Mr. Tomlinson wasn't here today." Lloyd hops up the steps leading to the front of the school as if they're each a skyscraper to scale.

Harry stops in his tracks. Lloyd doesn't notice, of course, until Harry gently tugs on the straps of his book bag. His teacher hasn't cancelled the meeting for today, and after a quick check for cancelation texts, Harry knows that Mr. Tomlinson has to be here. He sounded so adamant about today on the phone.

"... Spider-Man taught us," Lloyd offers, only half paying attention since a spider web has been spotted between the two columns of the school's awning.

Harry excuses Lloyd's skewed thoughts on his imaginary friend. After all, Lloyd is known to do this. He once insisted that Spider-Man sat next to him at lunch one day at school. Spider-Man has previously, in the span of two months at school, read stories to Lloyd's class, baked chocolate chip cookies for everyone, lead multiple arts and crafts sessions, played duck duck goose with the children... the list goes on and on. Harry is convinced that even he isn't aware of the line between reality and fantasy when it comes to Lloyd's erratic thoughts.

Harry decides to go against Lloyd's word due to lack of credibility in the past. He has to practically drag Lloyd away from the spider web, all the while Lloyd complaining about _leaving his brethren_.

Harry has no clue on how his four year old knows the word _brethren_.

\---

Lloyd leads Harry to the classroom, all thoughts on the abandoned spider web outside momentarily forgotten and replaced with the thought of seeing Spider-Man.

He practically stumbles into the small classroom, Harry close behind him. It takes Harry a minute to regain a steady breathing pace, but once he does he's astounded by the scene in front of him.

It's a classroom, of course, but not like any classroom Harry's seen. Each tile on the ceiling is a different color, some even shimmering with glitter. The floor itself is a simple grey carpet, but it's only revealed in pieces as most of it is covered by rugs. The rugs are a variety of numbers, shapes, and letters to aid the children in learning. A scattered range of pictures drawn by the children hang proudly on the wall, as if Mr. Tomlinson is as proud of them as a parent would be.

Harry even sees a tank of fish on the far wall. However, all of these things are pretty typical for a classroom dedicated to young children.

The entirely painted wall dedicated to Spider-Man is not.

Harry must blink repetitively in order to ensure that he is processing the sight correctly.

The wall is engrossed in a city scape during the night. Skyscrapers line the otherwise plain wall, the windows painted yellow to display the liveliness inside the buildings. A delicately painted moon is almost shining through the wall along with twinkling stars.

The strange thing is that Spider-Man isn't actually painted into the wall. Harry knows that the art piece is for the particular superhero by the dozens of pictures taped to the wall.

Upon further investigation Harry sees Mr. Tomlinson's class in the pictures, each individual student having their own picture with Spider-Man.

No one is happier to be with the superhero than his own son, who is grinning wildly beside the man in the costume. Lloyd's eyes are attentive and brilliant, which is rather strange for Harry since he has become familiar with Lloyd's blue eyes clouded with disinterest.

"Oh..." Harry's ears perk up at the disappointed sound of Lloyd's voice.

He turns to see Lloyd staring expectantly at... Mr. Tomlinson?

The teacher is wearing a smile despite how he isn't the one that Lloyd wants to see. Even from across the room Harry is impressed by the whiteness of his teeth and the brilliant shade of pink of his lips.

Harry quickly crosses the room, tripping over his own feet as he's met with two pairs of blue eyes.

And, oh. Harry should be used to blue eyes, since he sees them everyday on Lloyd.

He should be.

"Mr. Tomlinson," Harry gasps as the level of intensity in the teacher's eyes exceeds anything that Lloyd offers to Harry. Harry is just a babysitter according to Lloyd, something that was interesting a few years ago but is now old news. The way Mr. Tomlinson is looking at him now, though, makes shivers run down his spine.

"Louis," The teacher corrects. His accent is so overwhelmingly attractive that it confuses Harry for a moment because _why would he refer to Harry as Louis_. And, then, of course. His name is Louis Tomlinson.

Harry is Harry. Mr. Tomlinson is Louis. Got it.

"I'm Harry," Harry manages. Louis smirks at how flustered Harry is, but Harry barely notices. His top priority at the moment is the way Louis' fringe is perfectly messy in that _I rolled out of bed but I'm still prettier than you_ sort of way. It's brown, but unlike Harry and Lloyd's. The shade is more of a caramel color, highlighting his bright eyes.

Louis meets Harry's eyes for a moment longer before redirecting his attention to Lloyd.

"Spider-Man had duties to attend to and said that he's awfully sorry for not coming. Do you want to go work on your coloring?" Harry watches in interest as Lloyd nods his head excitedly, scurrying off to the wooden table stained with colorful paints. He pulls out the half-finished page he was working on so late last night and begins coloring, fully immersed in his work.

Louis smiles at the sight of Lloyd, but that smile diminishes as his gaze settles on Harry. It's startling different from the kind person he is towards Lloyd. He almost looks like a protective mother bear.

There's something else, though. Harry can see the slight fear in his eyes, as if Harry is anything to be afraid of.

"Well, come on then," Louis says almost impatiently. "Let's sit."

\---

Harry is utterly confused.

Just a mere minute ago his son was the one inventing mythical friends. Now? Harry is apparently the only one to not receive the memo that Spider-Man is real.

Harry is not the crazy one. He's not.

"I guess you're wondering about why your son comes home talking about Spider-Man?" Louis begins, a satisfied tone in his voice.

Harry doesn't want Louis to be right, doesn't like how Louis is acting superior to him, but he's already hit the nail on the head.

"I don't-" Harry tries to wrap his mind around the situation, but he comes up empty handed.

In his defense, it's hard to think when he's got the pretty Louis Tomlinson sitting in front of him.

Louis takes a cautious glance over his shoulder at Lloyd, who is still pleasantly coloring away.

Harry watches with a raised eyebrow as Louis tugs at the sleeve of his jumper, pulling back the material to reveal a red, webbed formed fitting costume under. With a wink, Louis lets go of the material and the splash of red is gone.

Harry is not crazy. His son's teacher just happens dress like a superhero.

"You know some people would find it rather strange how their child's teacher takes pleasure in dressing up as someone in a comic book," Harry points out. Louis' face is quickly transformed into a cold expression.

"Considering that you're already a deadbeat father at the age of - what? Twenty? - I don't really fancy having you insult me. In fact, since I'm all your son ever talks about, you should be thanking me," he snaps, and for a moment Harry is frozen in place.

He feels the need to apologize, but he doesn't know where to begin.  _Should_  he thank Louis for making his son happy? Or is this Spider-Man act having a negative impact on Lloyd much like a drug would? Drugs certainly make you happy, but at what cost?

"I just want to know about my son," Harry cowers. At times it seems like he's thousands of miles away from Lloyd, the emptiness in his eyes carving into Harry until he can't take it anymore. He doesn't want Louis to have a better relationship with Lloyd than he does, because he's selfish in that way.

Well, Louis the part time Spider-Man.

Louis' eyes reveal a flash of something, but it's gone as soon as it came and Harry misses it.

"Your son is brilliant," Louis says matter-of-factly. "In fact, so brilliant that he has created a more advanced world in his head because the world around him is too bland for his taste. You probably think that he's an introvert, but I can assure you that he's just bored with his surroundings."

Harry feels like he's just got out of a sauna and has had freezing cod water dumped onto him. It's a lot to take in at once, especially when Louis' chilling eyes are watching his reaction carefully.

"I thought that he was just lonely," Harry admits. He's saved the burden of seeing Louis' pity for him by a sudden shriek from behind the teacher.

Startling familiar crying arises from Lloyd's direction, and Harry is to his feet the moment it reaches his ears. Without fully processing the few steps to Lloyd's side, Harry's got a hand on the boy's back and is offering comfort by rubbing small circles into his spine.

"Shhh... Try to breathe... Can you take a deep breath for me?" Lloyd's face is bright red, matching the red crayon held in his hand. The crayon snaps with the tension Lloyd's giving to it without meaning to.

"Come on, Loy, I know you can. Deep breath, 1...2...3..." Harry takes a deep breath himself, instructing Lloyd to do the same. Louis has completely escaped his mind.

The hysterical boy does as he's told, the breaths coming out in irregular gasps. Harry takes the crayon from his hand, setting down the writing tool and taking the two of Lloyd's hands into one of his own.

"There you go, buddy. One more time..." Harry coaxes the child into an state of calm, slowly and steadily, the experience being all too familiar to him. Once a month this happens, every time sending Harry into a mini heart attack.

Lloyd relaxes to the point of not supporting himself anymore, his small body swaying off of the chair. Luckily, Harry is there to catch him. The boy closes his eyes and continues his routine of soothing breaths.

Harry lays a hand on the child's head, holding him to his chest. Louis, Harry sees as he turns around, now fully having Lloyd in his arms, is frozen in place. His eyes are startlingly twice the size they should be, his knuckles turning white with the grip on the chair meant for five year olds.

"Can I get a glass of water?" Harry asks, startling Louis out of his trance.

Louis nods, standing up abruptly from his chair and leaving the room.

Harry leans down to push the loose pieces of hair out of Lloyd's eyes. He's mostly calmed down for now, at least to the point of a conversation.

"What happened?" Harry whispers, careful not to startle him. Lloyd points to his picture.

It's quite impressive for a four year old. The only mistake Harry can see is an askew mark of red emerging from Spider-Man's mask.

Harry puts his finger on the error.

"This?" Lloyd sniffs and wipes his nose on Harry's shirt, but he can't find it in himself to care. Harry takes it as a yes.

"It's still amazing, Loy," Harry insists. And it's not a lie.

Louis returns with a chilled bottle of water. His expression towards Harry has immensely softened.

"Thanks." Harry takes the water and twists the cap off, offering the beverage to Lloyd. Lloyd takes a few sips before suddenly becoming tired. It's probably due to his late night coloring session.

Louis returns to his seat, still seemingly stunned from Lloyd's breakdown.

"Does that happen often?" He asks in a hushed tone once Lloyd is sleepily pawing at Harry's jacket.

"Only about once a month," Harry whispers, careful to not disturb Lloyd on his path to sleep.

"Why?" Harry's only known Louis for half an hour at the most but he can already tell that Louis isn't easy to surprise.

"They're always for simple things like breaking the arm off of his favorite toy or dropping his morning pancakes," Harry explains. Louis' attention is so genuine in that moment that Harry must look away.

"He hasn't had one since school started. I thought they were done. But maybe the Spider-Man thing is really helping him."

"That's why I do it," Louis says almost to himself. Harry casts a questioning look his way.

"What was that?" Judging by the stillness of Lloyd's body, Harry believes that he's asleep.

"I had... issues myself as a young lad. Never really had anything to hold onto sanity wise, so it just kept getting worse as I aged." Louis looks upon Lloyd with caring eyes. "If I can be that wall between a child and their troubles, then I'd gladly dress-"

Louis seems to catch himself.

"- if I can help these children by letting Spider-Man visit a few times every week, then I'll do it." He smiles at his slip up, his cheeks revealing the lack of dimples but still somehow adorable. His nose scrunches up when he smiles, Harry notices.

The next few moments are spent in a comfortable silence, both men gazing admirably at Lloyd's sleeping figure.

Harry's the first one to break the silence.

"Hey, Louis?"

"Mmhm?" Even his hum seems to be dipped in his thick British accent.

"Does Spider-Man have a phone number by any chance?"

\---

Harry doesn't want to overuse the Spider-Man hotline. He doesn't.

But as soon as Lloyd is aware of the contact to Spider-Man Harry possesses, it's extremely difficult to keep him away from the phone.

The first time it happens, Harry is showering. He hears a squeal from the living room, immediately setting off his fatherly radar.

Tumbling out of the bathroom dripping wet and naked, Harry finds Lloyd sitting on the couch with Harry's phone to his ear.

Lloyd laughs hysterically at the sight of Harry without clothes, and chuckles into the phone-

"Daddy's naked!" Harry cries out in protest and rips the phone from the hands of the little menace, already thinking of a clever cover up.

Louis is the one laughing on the phone, not Spider-Man, but Lloyd doesn't have to know that. Harry grasps onto a detailed explanation on why his son  _thinks_ he's naked, but all that comes out is-

"I'm fully clothed. S-swear. This household doesn't promote such awful things," he blubbers like an idiot, all the while Lloyd and Louis near pissing themselves from laughing, each in an ear.

"Does your household promote lying, then?" Louis says cleverly. Despite Louis not being able to see him, he blushes, shooting daggers at Lloyd.

"Did he call you?" Harry attempts to change the subject, having half the mind to delete this number after the call ends.

Louis is grinning; Harry can tell by the sound of his voice.

"Yeah, but it's no problem. I was just organizing a few notes for class," he explains. "Made my night, to be honest."

It's then that Harry realizes that he's left the shower running, and he certainly does not have enough money to be spending a large chunk of it on unused water.

Lloyd trails Harry into the bathroom, desperate to even be near Spider-Man's voice.

"Was that a shower?" Louis pipes in from the other line. Harry knows what's going to happen before it does- "So you are naked then."

"That is irrelevant!" Harry insists, reaching for a towel to cover himself. As if that would help the situation. Lloyd has seen him naked plenty of times and Louis can't see anything through the phone.

Lloyd is grabbing for the phone now, and Harry isn't one to resist those puppy eyes.

"Hey, Spider-Man?" Harry speaks into the phone extra loud to alert Louis of Lloyd's attentiveness.

"At your service," Louis responds, his voice huskier than usual.

"Your number one fan wants to speak with you, but his bedtime is in _exactly twenty two minutes_ ," Harry stresses, directing that last part towards Lloyd. "And he also needs to brush his teeth before then, so he won't be able to talk long."

Louis chuckles, and Harry absently thinks that a sound that adorable sounds nothing like a superhero.

"That I can do," Louis retorts. Lloyd is bobbing up and down with excitement. Harry hasn't seen him this happy in ages, ever since Harry bought him a spider man tent for Christmas. And now that he thinks about it, the sound of laughter from Lloyd has nearly become foreign to him.

"And, Harry?" Louis speaks. "Put some pants on."

\---

Lloyd talks to Spider-Man for twenty minutes before his consistent yawning interrupted the conversation enough to cause it to end. He didn't even cry when he had to hang up, too ecstatic from the promise Spider-Man made to visit him at school tomorrow.

Lloyd told Harry that he loved him for the first time in two years that night.

\---

Harry's had a long day at work. His boss is a dick at all times, but today he was especially dicky.

All he wants is to make Lloyd dinner and then go to bed, but of course that's not what happens.

"Daddy daddy daddy!" Lloyd chants as he meets Harry at the bus stop outside of their apartment complex. Harry's so tired that he nearly falls over when Lloyd jumps into his arms, legs wrapping around Harry's waist and a bright grin on his face.

"Why hello to you too," Harry grins, the previous level of tiredness already diminishing. He isn't used to this much physical affection from Lloyd.

He notices a coloring page in Lloyd's hands. It's of Spider-Man, but this one is perfectly colored unlike the last one.

"Spider-Man is coming over for dinner tonight!" Lloyd chirps.

At first Harry momentarily forgets that Spider-Man is a real person, not an imaginary friend as previously believed. He expects that maybe he'll have to set an extra place at the table and possibly pass salt to an empty chair, but then reality sets in and oh.

Spider-Man is a real person.

Harry chooses his words carefully.

"Did Spider-Man tell you this or did you invite him?" Lloyd's getting impatient, his eyes trailing to the cross necklace Harry has.

"Invited. We'll call him at six." Harry pinches the bridge of his nose because nothing is ready. The apartment is a mess and there's toys everywhere, and all he has to eat is cereal-

Wait.

Harry's about to scold Lloyd for not consulting him first, especially with so little time to prepare, when he notices the particular choice of wording in Lloyd's sentence.

"Call him?"

Lloyd looks at Harry like it's quite obvious.

"He said that he can call us and then we can all eat dinner together," Lloyd explains impatiently. His brow scrunches up, as if searching for a word. "Speaker-phone."

"Oh." This makes the situation a million times better. Harry's about to say so when his phone's alert goes off in his trousers.

A quick glance at the screen sends Harry into an even bigger fit of panic than the one a few moments ago.

_Lloyd has a dentist appointment._

"Loy, Spider-Man can't call us tonight," Harry explains ruefully, knowing how much Lloyd was looking forward to this. Harry would take Louis seeing his messy house over Lloyd not seeing Spider-Man.

"Why?" Lloyd whines, his lip already puckering into a pout.

"We've got a dentist appointment," Harry frowns as Lloyd thrashes in his arms until being set down on the ground.

Harry is convinced that Lloyd is going to burst into tears any minute now, but he doesn't. Instead, he surprises Harry by reaching for his phone.

"We could still call him."

\---

"And then, _guess what_ -"

"Lloyd, don't talk with your mouth full," Harry comments, looking through the mirror to see Lloyd munching on his chicken nuggets. He knew that Lloyd was extremely disappointed that Spider-Man couldn't talk to him at dinner, but Lloyd didn't throw any fit at all. In fact, he was on his best behavior throughout the entire dentist appointment.

Harry wanted to reward this good attitude, and Spider-Man just so happened to pick up the phone when Lloyd called.

Harry hasn't got a clue on what they've been talking about for the past twenty minutes, only catching bits and pieces from Lloyd's end as he desperately tries weaving through traffic.

Harry's nearly driven them back to the apartment when Lloyd speaks again, only this time it's directed to Harry.

"Daddy, Spider-Man wants to talk to you," he says and Harry will never own up to the fluttering in his heart beat.

Lloyd slides the McDonald's kids meal off of his lap and hands Harry the phone.

"Hello?" Harry answers before telling Lloyd to buckle his seat belt.

"Hey, I'm not on speaker phone am I?" Louis asks, maintaining his character by a deep voice just in case the answer is yes.

Harry chuckles.

"Nah, it's just me." Harry didn't think that through, didn't realize how intimate it sounded until the words left his mouth.

"Okay so since the dinner was cancelled, I had an idea." Louis is unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Harry wonders how he got lucky enough to find someone that cares about his son the way Louis does.

"Oh yeah?"

"If he gets excited from a phone call, what would he do if Spider-Man made a visit?"

Harry takes a look back at Lloyd, with his shaggy hair and wide eyes. He's been happier than Harry's ever seen him, and what kind of father would Harry be if he denied his son of this happiness?

"I think that you've got a brilliant idea there, Spider-Man."

\---

"Your room is clean, right?" Harry asks Lloyd as the young boy sits at the kitchen island, his legs swinging in the empty space between his feet and the floor. The oven dings as the chicken finishes.

Lloyd nods, the majority of his attention reserved for the Spider-Man themed car in front of him. He's making the vehicle's noises for it, rolling it back and forth across the granite.

"So if I go check, it'll be perfect?" Harry raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. He knows when Lloyd is lying, even if he's not paying any attention to Harry.

Lloyd sighs and hops down from the tall chair, his bare feet slapping against the floors as he scurries into his bedroom to finish his cleaning.

Harry pulls the chicken out of the oven with a flowery oven mitt (it was on sale) and sets it on the stove.

He's setting out plates and forks when the doorbell rings. Harry counts down from five in his head, laughing as Lloyd thunders by on zero.

Harry hears the door open, Lloyd squealing in surprise.

Now, Harry's seen Spider-Man in the pictures on the wall of the classroom, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Louis Tomlinson standing in front of him in a comical costume.

He's got the mask on and everything. Every body part is covered by the spandex material.

Harry must clamp his hand down on his mouth to restrain himself from bursting into laughter. He can't see Louis' eyes through the large black holes in the suit, but if he could he is positive that he would be receiving a glare.

"Daddy this is Spider-Man," Lloyd introduces, his hand grasped tightly around Louis'. Harry makes a show of shaking Spider-Man's hand, the padded fingers making the grip firm. He tries to not think about how small the superhero's hand is compared to his own.

"Hello Spider-Man," Harry smiles. His son's happiness is contagious.

"Hello Daddy," Spider-Man replies, sending Harry's skin tone into a bright pink. There's a chuckle from behind the mask, and Harry would give a lot to see Louis' face right now.

Lloyd claps wildly, obviously pleased that the two most important people in his life have finally met. He drags Louis into the kitchen, Harry trailing behind. Lloyd must have gotten into paints at school because Harry catches a sharp smell lingering behind him.

He most certainly does not admire the way Louis' hips put a deep curve into his silhouette, his calves and thighs well defined. He's lean, but the suit reveals the small layer of muscle that the sweaters and slacks do not.

His eyes definitely stay away from Louis' bum. One hundred percent. _But how is it possible for a man to have that big of a bum?_

"We're having chicken with mash, laid in ham..." Lloyd chews on his lip, a habit he acquired from Harry. Harry laughs lightly at his confusion.

"Chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of homemade mash," Harry recites. It's Lloyd's favorite, and a true crowd pleaser.

Spider-Man's facial expressions remain the same, but Louis' body language hints at his surprise.

"Pizza would have been fine," he speaks in his superhero voice. Lloyd looks at him like he's the sun.

"I like to impress," Harry shrugs, taking the warm chicken off of the stove to separate the food into portions on everyone's plate.

After everyone's served he sits, motioning towards Spider-Man to do the same. Lloyd sits also, but only after moving his chair closer to Louis.

Lloyd begins digging in right away. Louis, however, picks up his fork and seems to realize something.

Harry raises an eyebrow, not voicing his question in the case that it could alert Lloyd of the zipper in the back of the costume.

Louis' tense, his gaze shifting to Harry. At least Harry thinks that he's looking at him. It's hard to tell.

In a swift motion Louis uses his finger to circle his mouth, well, where his mouth would be... and oh. The costume doesn't include a mouth hole, just two for each eye.

The entire situation is quite hysterical.

Harry takes his first bite of dinner, his taste buds please with the taste. He makes a discreet _hold on_ motion by lifting his index finger.

"Lloyd?" Harry asks, pointing to the tv where it's visible from the small living room. It's currently playing a commercial with a four wheeler on it. It's specially made for Lloyd's age, and shows a boy laughing and riding along a path in the woods.

"That looks really cool, doesn't it?" Lloyd turns around to the television and in that moment Harry lunges across the table to grab a piece of chicken off of Louis' plate and shove it under his napkin.

Spider-Man laughs, causing Lloyd to whip his head around to see what Louis' laughing at.

A quick cough covers up the unexplained laughter.

"That commercial was interesting. Wish I had something like that for myself to get around on," Louis says casually.

Lloyd laughs in disbelief.

"But Spider-Man, you've got webs!" He smiles at Louis' attempt.

"Hey now, I get tired too! You've got feet, but don't you tired of walking?" Harry doesn't ever think that he'll be able to get Louis' Spider-Man voice out of his mind.

Lloyd is quiet for a long minute, then he finally nods.

"I suppose you're right, Spider-Man. I would like one of those four wheelers very much."

\---

Over the course of the next hour Spider-Man and Harry successfully manage distracting Lloyd in small intervals. Each time the child's back was turned a piece of Louis' dinner would disappear until finally his plate is cleared.

The lumpy napkin is highly suspicious, but Lloyd doesn't notice a thing except for his own personal superhero sitting next to him. Harry can't blame him. He finds Louis distracting too.

After dinner Spider-Man attempts to help clean up the table, but Harry insists that the time would be better spent with him and Lloyd playing in Lloyd's room.

Laughter and the sound of running tap water fills the apartment, the noises pleasing Harry. He hadn't realized it, but the blandness of Lloyd's behavior before school began created a lonely void inside of Harry.

But right now, he feels no such thing. Just... warm. Physically and mentally.

Even if he did get stuck with the dishes.

\---

"... I hear that a lot actually! I don't see why a superhero can't be small, though! I mean, yeah Wikipedia says that I'm 5'10, but what do they know?" Spider-Man's voice carries throughout the hall as Harry follows the source of the laughter, ending up at Lloyd's bedroom.

Louis has his back against the side of the bed, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Lloyd's head is laying on Spider-Man's thighs, his eyes desperately trying to stay awake just a moment longer.

"I think you're amazing like you are," Lloyd half-yawns. Harry might be mistaken, but it seems as if Louis is taken back by Lloyd's words. Spider-Man reaches out to stroke Lloyd's hair, the curls probably horribly knotty. Harry's used to get tangled when he was a young lad too.

"No, no. You're the amazing one, Lloyd. Superhero's honor." Louis' voice cracks into his regular accent, but Harry thinks that Lloyd is too tired to notice.

"But I don't have superhero powers like you," Lloyd insists, his blue eyes looking up at the black disks in the Spider-Man mask.

"Well do you think that your dad's amazing?" Louis asks, his voice returning to his character's. Harry creeps behind the safety of the doorway, eager to hear where this conversation is heading.

"Of course," Lloyd says in that know it all way of his.

"And he doesn't have any powers. Just like you."

Harry hears another yawn, and knows that Lloyd is close to a slumber despite the entertaining night he's had.

"Yeah. No radioactive spiders."

"No radioactive spiders," Louis echoes, sounding more like Louis than Spider-Man.

\---

Harry's startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder. A hand with a strange spandex material over it.

He jerks his head up off of the couch pillow, immediately regretting his decision to do so. His head collides with Louis', sending them both into a fit of filthy words.

"Bloody hell Harry," Louis groans, his webbed hand gripping his forehead in pain. Harry knows that Lloyd isn't in hearing distance by the way Louis' voice is completely... Louis'.

Harry pushes the piles of papers off of him, remembering why he fell asleep in the first place.

"I am _so_ sorry," He apologizes, standing shakily to his feet. Louis is inches away from him, which doesn't help to clear Harry's head.

"I was taking advantage of the free time to catch up on some work, and I must have fallen asleep. I didn't mean to leave you alone with him-"

"You do realize that I'm with him for the entire school day, right?" Louis points out. "A few extra hours won't hurt. And besides, I like hanging out with him."

Harry breathes a sigh of relief at Louis' willingness to be with his son. He wouldn't want Louis to feel like he had to stay because Harry was an idiot and fell asleep.

"Wait. A few hours? Meaning how many?" Harry is most definitely an awful person. All he wanted to do was work on a few documents, but the apartment was warm and Louis' voice was reaching his ears from the bedroom like honey...

Louis shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"Just two. It's no problem, really. You deserve the rest. And Lloyd went to bed just fine." Harry stretches his back out, surprised to hear the absence of cracks. He's slept on the floor beside Lloyd's bed more often than not, and nearly forgot how it felt to not feel like an old man.

The thing is- Harry's a cuddler. In fact, this is so extreme that it extends to being awake too. He's touchy when he's sleepy, so if he gravitates towards Louis, he doesn't notice.

A yawn has him rubbing his eyes, and before he can catch himself he's leaning into Louis' shoulder.

"You're amazing," Harry unconsciously quotes his son. Louis tenses, but Harry is more relaxed than he's been in a while.

"I'm not really a superhe-"

"I meant for playing with my son. You make him happy." Harry meant the hug to only be for a goodbye, but now he's slowly coming into reality. He's been attached to Louis for far too long.

And there's that smell again, the scent that Harry caught a whiff of when Spider-Man first arrived. He had thought that it was just the lingering smell of paint on Lloyd's clothes, but now that he's this close to Louis (closer than he should be), he knows exactly what it is.

"Did you smoke weed before coming here?" Harry asks accusingly, drawing away from Louis. He's tired of not seeing Louis' face, so he reaches around Louis' neck to feel for the tie in the back of the mask.

A gentle tug on the bow has the mask loosening considerably. Harry blinks slowly as he pinches the top of the material and pulls the mask off.

He sees Louis' hair first, still the color of caramel but now extremely messy, and not in an artful way. Harry couldn't care less.

The second thing is the eyes. It's only been a week since Harry has seen Louis (not Spider-Man) but he's still unprepared for the intensity looking back at him.

"Harry, I swear it wasn't much! Certainly not nearly enough to get high, I would never have came if I was, I cross my heart on it and-"

Harry shoves an index finger on Louis' lips, trying to not reveal how startled he is when he feels how soft they are, like velvet.

"Shhh..." He whispers drowsily. He's never been a morning person. "You shouldn't hope to die."

Louis looks about into tears, probably fearing the possible destruction of the system they've set up between the three of them.

Harry listens for any sign of movement from Lloyd's room. The apartment is completely silent despite the erratic breathing from Louis.

Harry returns his attention back to Louis, their eyes a clash of blue and green. He'll never be used to the amount of emotion in Louis' eyes, forced to be content with the lack of interest in Lloyd's.

Louis looks like a frightened animal, his face red and Harry's surprised that he can't hear his pounding heart.

Harry doesn't know what Louis expects him to say, but he's willing to bet that it's not what happens.

"Do you have anymore?"

\---

Harry presses his ear to the front door of the apartment, straining to hear oncoming footsteps.

He's waken up considerably with the thought of getting a smoke into his system. He hasn't had weed since.... well, it's been too long.

Harry leans back from the door for a moment to confirm that Lloyd is still fast asleep. He doesn't hear anything, which is a good sign.

Unfortunately, Harry is temporarily distracted long enough for the hurried footsteps outside to go unnoticed. The door swings open, causing Harry to get hit in the head for the second time tonight. He bites his lip to restrain his cry of pain.

"Get outta the way!" A shrill voice panics, pushing on the door. Harry cringes as the doorknob hits his side, realizing that he is blocking the way.

"Sorry," he wheezes. With the barrier no longer there Louis is able to enter the apartment.

Louis, still dressed as Spider-Man, is clearly out of breath as he shuts the door and leans on the wall beside Harry. His hands grip at his knees in a feeble attempt to gather air into his lungs and Harry notices the paper bag clutched in his right hand.

"Shoulda seen this woman's face," Louis gasps with a smile. "Probably thought she was hallucinating seeing Spider-Man running through the parking lot with drugs."

That has Harry forgetting about his pain and instead has him doubling over in laughter, desperately trying to keep quiet for Lloyd's sake.

Once he's able to properly breathe he motions for Spider-Man to follow him. Louis put his mask back on and Harry doesn't know if it was so that people don't see a teacher in possession of drugs or just in case Lloyd is a light sleeper.

He's not.

Harry leads the way into the bathroom. It has a window that he opens after shutting the door behind Louis.

"Is in here okay? I don't want Lloyd to smell anything," Harry explains, watching as Spider-Man sets the bag on the sink and removes his mask.

"Yeah of course." Louis seems to enjoy the cool air blowing in from the London streets, tilting his chin to the flow of the breeze. Harry can only imagine how hot the costume must be.

An idea to make Louis more comfortable has Harry excusing himself to the kitchen.

When he returns, his hands occupied, Louis has made himself at home by being perched up on top of the sink. Harry is oddly reminded of Peter Pan with the way Louis' got his legs intertwined with each other.

"Are those orange popsicles?" He asks quietly after Harry has shut the door. Harry smiles and hands one to Louis, shrugging as he sits down on the edge of the tub.

"I figure that you're hungry, and they're more of a smoothie, really. You just peel the top off and then push the bottom..." Harry demonstrates, licking at the protruding piece happily.

"Push pops," Louis seems to have remembered. "I used to eat them when I was younger."

A statement like that seems to be a happy memory, but instead Louis looks sad. Harry longs to know the reason but all he does is take another lick from his frozen treat.

"Lloyd loves them." Harry wipes his messy lips off on the back of his hand.

It's then that Harry notices the readied joint balanced between Louis' fingers. He sits up long enough to reach for it, the item spreading warmth to his skin.

"Harry?" Louis asks after a long pause. There's a lot of possibilities hidden beneath that one word.

"Mmh?" Harry hums, granting Louis permission to ask his question as he inhales his first dose of weed. It creates a warmth in his toes, and if he felt any anxiety from the question Louis is going to ask, it's left him completely.

"Where's Lloyd's mom?" The question doesn't surprise Harry one bit.

"White Water Cemetery," Harry answers simply, wishing that he could put forth more regret into his voice. The truth is, though, Harry didn't know Natalie near enough to feel sorrow when she died. He morned what could have been, not what was. And those are entirely different feelings to have.

Harry prepares for Louis' apology, but it doesn't come. The taste of the Push Pop is bitter-sweet when mixed with the weed. He takes another hit before handing it back to Louis.

The smoke envelopes them in a temporary silence until it has all drifted out of the window.

"How did she die?" Is all Louis asks. Harry's surprisingly relieved that he didn't receive an apology. It's always felt undeserved. The apology should go towards Natalie's family, not a guy that she slept with once.

"See the kicker is, I don't even know. All I do know, though, is that a pretty girl approached me and wanted to have sex. I was sixteen and hormonal and riding the roller coaster of life. I didn't even think that she knew that she would be dead in less than a year, and didn't want to die a virgin..." His head suddenly hurts the way it always does when talking about the past four years. Louis gets it, though, and gives Harry the joint. All of his troubles seem to evaporate along with the smoke flowing out of his mouth as he exhales.

"I got a call nine months later saying that I was a father. Didn't even know she was pregnant," Harry sighs and finishes his Push Pop with a last lick. "The next call was two and a half months after that. Natalie was dead." Harry thinks for a while after that and mentally thanks Louis for giving him the space to do so.

"It makes you grow up really fast, you know? I was suddenly a kid with a kid." Harry doesn't know if that makes sense, but Louis nods anyways.

"Sorry," he chuckles to relieve the tension. "I get like this sometimes when I'm high. My friend once said that I'm either annoyingly happy or depressingly sad. I guess that right now I'm the latter."

It's Louis turn for the joint. Harry is mesmerized by the way Louis' lips wrap around the same area that Harry's lips were just moments before, the way the smoke seems to put a hazy spotlight on Louis. Harry's eyes are having trouble focusing, but he can still see the unruliness of Louis' hair, the shade of pink on his lips, the slight stubble skewed along his jaw.

"Nah, it's good to talk about things sometimes. And I say that in the least resemblance to a whiny female," Louis adds, his voice husky from the weed.

Harry stands to his feet and ends up leaning against the counter next to Louis' body. Louis hands him the joint, thinking that that's why Harry traveled across the bathroom. It's not.

"Tell me about yourself. It's only fair." Harry can only imagine how deep his voice sounds now with the added cloudiness.

Louis flutters his eyes and pouts his lips, and that's flirting if Harry's ever seen it.

"What do you want to know?" He asks with a light tone to his voice. Harry may just be in love with the way the conversation is still easy even after the talk about Natalie. All too often he's been pitied after telling the story, but he feels the same as before talking Louis. The drugs pumping through his body might have something to do with it, though.

"Why did you choose teaching?" Harry asks, noticing the lack of joint left as he hands the rest over to Louis.

Louis waits to answer after he's got a whiff of smoke in his lungs.

"It's the same reason I wear this silly thing out in public," Louis shrugs. There's more, though, even Harry's scattered brain can tell.

"Yeah, I know that. What I meant was..." Harry must try organizing his thoughts into words in order to properly communicate. "... You said that you had troubles as a boy. That's what I want to know about."

Louis has an interesting look on his face, but it's a mix of too many emotions that Harry's slower-than-usual mind has trouble deciphering it.

"Okay. But first we're going to need another joint."

\---

"Just... once I tell you, promise you'll still think of me the same?" Louis asks, his voice clogged with smoke and mixed with fear and anxiety.

"I became a father at sixteen. How worse can it get?" Harry asks even though he knows that it could get much, much worse.

Louis opts to not answer the question, deeming it rhetorical. Harry watches in interest as he stares off into space.

"Well, my story takes place when I was seventeen. I was at that part of your life when you start discovering yourself, and I just so happened to come across an interesting fact. I suppose I've always known, deep down, but it wasn't until the summer of my seventeenth year that I came out to my parents as gay." Louis' tentative eyes flicker to Harry's, as if searching for judgement. Harry doesn't see why, though, for he sees Louis' sexuality to be as important as his hair color. Harry wouldn't like him any less if his hair was red, and the same goes for his preference for the same gender.

Louis takes a slow breath before continuing.

"I made more than a few bad decisions, Harry," he whispers, the silent begging to be understood hiding behind the words he speaks with care. "The majority of them happened after my parents kicked me out of the house. _Didn't want to have a faggot under their roof_ , they said. As if one wasn't living there for seventeen years." He attempts to lighten the conversation by laughter, but it comes out as a strained cough.

"Louis, if you don't want to talk about it you don't have to," Harry insists, regretting that he ever brought this up in the first place if it makes Louis uncomfortable.

Louis shrugs and leans back against the mirror, his knees bending and his feet resting on the edge of the counter. He inhales more weed as his eyes land on Harry's.

"It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want you to think of me differently," Louis explains honestly. Harry lays a hand on Louis' knee, feeling like he's touching skin instead of the spandex material.

"I won't."

"Okay, so..." Louis sucks on his lip, trying to decide where to start. "I didn't have anything. I don't say that for pity, now. It's just a necessary fact to continue the story. I was done with my schooling but if I wanted to make a decent living I needed to go to further education. I knew from a young age that I wanted to be a teacher. The problem was money." He takes a pause to get another smoke.

"I figured out quick enough that you can get pretty much anything if you're fit. And I was, at the time." Harry still thinks that he is. "My professor happened to be... open minded. I lead him on for years, sneaking in his room after I finished my homework. Quite the scandal," Louis chuckles without humor. "I hated it, but what else could I do? I ditched him after I finished school, of course. Most satisfying thing I've done in my life."

Harry nods as Louis finishes, now understanding why Louis was cautious and snide with Harry when they first met. He doesn't trust people. And why should he? His own parents put him out on the curb.

"You're still Louis," Harry smiles gently. Louis seems to like this very much, his cheeks turning pink and his fingers intertwining in his lap.

"You don't mind that your son's teacher is gay?" Louis questions, his voice quiet with anticipation and disbelief.

Harry doesn't know how to say it, can't think clearly enough to form coherent sentences, so he decides to show it instead. It may not be the intelligent thing to do, but Harry's logic has been stripped clean of reason and left at its original barbaric state. Harry knows what he wants, and there's not a single piece of dignity left to resist.

His lips find Louis' and he's standing in HIS apartment leaning against HIS counter but he feels like he just came home.

Louis doesn't react, but he doesn't flinch away either. Harry's neck and shoulders are at an uncomfortable position and he doesn't fancy being the only one using his lips so he ends the kiss just as sudden as it began.

"You don't mind that your student's father is bi?" Harry's words echo Louis', just without the extra ingredient of tension added to it. Harry should really stop talking. He's already dug himself deep enough, it's time to sit in this hole and think about what he's done.

Louis' webbed fingers reach up to rest on his lips. His eyes are staring at the wall numbly and Harry almost wishes that he could hide behind that mask like Louis did all evening.

"Harry... you're..." Louis' mind seems to lose it's train of thought and perhaps both of them are too high to be doing this right now.

"Into girls and guys. Story of my life," Harry grins. He should be kicking himself right now but all he can process is the way Louis' lips felt pressed against his.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He's asked without accusation. Louis just seems... confused.

"Hi. I'm Harry. I'm twenty years old, my favorite color is red and I'm bi. Nice to meet you." Even as he says it it's obvious how strange it sounds. Louis seems to realize this, his eyes hinting understanding.

"Well if you're bi and I'm gay then I don't see why we can't kiss for a bit, then," Louis smirks at his verdict. Harry could pass out from relief, but he keeps this hidden from Louis.

Instead, he takes the joint from between Louis' fingers and inhales some for himself. The smoke filters throughout his mouth but he doesn't exhale yet, only moves between Louis' legs and leans their foreheads together. Louis can't seem to stay still as Harry places his hands on the counter space beside Louis' thighs.

Louis' lips, although previously inattentive, have decided that they want to be with Harry's again. Harry allows them to believe that the kiss is going to happen again, but his intentions are nonexistent.

He chooses that moment to exhale, a portion of the smoke captured between his lips traveling onto Louis' flushed face.

Louis doesn't seem to notice, his own desire proving stronger than the drug. He lays a hand on the back of Harry's neck and crashes their lips together in a swift motion.

Harry breathes a sigh of relief, the remaining smoke traveling between their lips. The kiss is a mess of tongue and weed and teeth and Harry feels higher than he has all night.

"Shotgun," he's able to breathe before Louis pulls him back into the kiss. Harry has half a mind to tease Louis for his strong desire and neediness, but he doesn't want to break the kiss anymore than Louis does.

Louis fucking  _whimpers_ as Harry nips at his bottom lip. Harry feels Louis' hands desperately reach around to grab at the shirt on his back, pulling Harry closer. He feels the longing to be closer too, the space between them too far.

Harry slides his fingers under Louis' thighs and pulls, a surprised gasp coming from Louis as their bodies are flushed together.

Louis tilts his head back slightly, their lips still touching but the kiss momentarily interrupted. Harry's confused until he notices that Louis' entire body has stilled.

Pushing through the drug-influenced barriers in his mind, Harry becomes aware of Louis' body, not just his lips.

Louis is hard.

Harry wants to laugh, he wants to keep smoking, he wants to cry because Louis is a beautiful person that deserves beautiful things. He doesn't do any of these, though.

What he does do is allow his hands to give into the gravitational force and snake around Louis' waist to his bum. It only seems fitting that Harry's large hands are the ones caressing Louis' equally large bum.

He doesn't take his eyes away from Louis as he lets his fingers spread throughout the span of Louis ass. Harry flexes his biceps and in return his hands pull Louis into him, Louis' crotch coming in contact with Harry's belly.

Louis makes a choking sound, his eyes fluttering closed from the pleasure he's feeling. Harry noses at his neck, his hands using Louis' bum as leverage to rock Louis' hips into him.

"Look at me," Harry grunts, the taste of Louis, the weed, and the Push Pops fresh on his lips.

It's slow and sensual, the cold air giving Harry an excuse to want Louis' body heat.

"I-I..." Louis cries out, scratching at Harry's back. Harry is ready to mark this one as a win when Louis suddenly lays his palms on Harry's chest and shoves, hard enough to get the message across.

Harry's back collides with the opposite wall, his breath coming out in deep pants. He's not hurt, but the shock of it all isn't working too well with his sluggish brain.

Louis is a mess, his hair standing on end, his lips already swollen with pressure and his entire body quivering.

He runs a hand over his face, trying to get a grasp on reality.

"I can't," Louis finally gasps. He must feel vulnerable because he slides down from the counter, standing to his feet.

"It's okay," Harry breathes. He can't catch a clear breath of air, and it's obvious that Louis can't either.

"No, it's just. I promised that I wouldn't do... _that_ anymore. Not until it means something. I used it as a tool to get what I want, and I'm not going to use it as an advantage anymore." Harry looks down to see that the first few buttons of his flannel have come undone. With shame, he tidies his shirt's appearance by redoing the buttons and smoothing down the creases.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologizes. Louis is older than him but it doesn't change the fact that Harry feels as if he's just taken advantage of him.

"No! No. Don't apologize. It was consensual, I swear. See?" Harry snorts as he follows Louis' motioning to see the large bulge in his pants.

"I never thought I'd say this, but boners look weird in spandex," Harry laughs. Louis covers himself, but he's smiling.

"It does not!" Louis chuckles. Harry can feel himself relaxing with the lack of tension.

He wants to see Louis' smile longer so he pulls a card from Harry's Joke Book.

"Getting hard in your pants, huh? How old are you again, fifteen?" Louis' eyebrows raise at that, his playfully defensive side coming into play.

Harry is caught off guard as Louis' hands travels to his crotch, cupping the hardness there. Harry's mouth falls open and he freezes at the Will of Louis.

"Fifteen years old, huh? That feel soft to you, Styles?"

Harry is all out of cards to play. He stands there, eyes wide and chin on the ground. Louis seems to be waiting for an answer, though, so he's forced to shake his head.

"Alright then," Louis nods once as a show of authority. "Now do you have anymore of those Push Pops?"

\---

"Dean is hotter than Sam. End of story," Louis insists as he munches on the popcorn Harry's made for them. Well, it was meant to share but Louis has claimed it as his own.

Harry shakes his head furiously.

"No, no! Sam has better hair than Dean!" His voice is carefully quiet. They could be at normal volume in the bathroom but here in the living room there's nothing but a door separating them from the sleeping Lloyd.

"You get confused when you're high, Styles." Harry doesn't point out the fact that they both consumed the same amount of weed.

"That's a lot of big talk for someone that doesn't even know how to work a pull out couch," Harry smiles. After suggesting a movie, he was the one that had to make room for them to lay down on the couch; Louis was occupied with watching Harry from his place on the floor.

Harry gets a handful of popcorn thrown at his face.

"Maybe I just wanted you to do the work for me. Did you think about that?" Louis asks with an added wink. Harry actually didn't think about that, but he'd take another round of popcorn to the face before he admits to it.

Their attention, previously focused on each other, shifts back to the telly but it's clear that the show is being ignored.

Louis is the first one to break the silence, clearing his throat and reaching for the remote. He goes to the guide, probably checking the time. He squints, and Harry wonders if Louis sees the highly blurred edges of the moving picture.

"It's probably getting late... I can't focus my eyes on the tv anymore," Louis sighs as his form of dismissal. It's technically just really early, but Harry doesn't acknowledge this.

"You shouldn't drive home high," Harry points out. He gets a chill up his spine as Louis' cold toes brush over his legs. Harry's wearing jeans and Louis' feet are covered by the spandex, but the simple contact has Harry feeling strange sense of intimacy.

Louis pulls the shared blanket further to his side.

"I don't want to intrude," Louis protests rather weakly. Harry already knows that the decision is settled.

"I think the biggest problem here will be waking up before Lloyd and putting your mask on," Harry finalizes with a smile.

\---

Harry is awoken by a knee to his balls. A quick check of his surroundings reveals a sleeping Spider-Man (bless him for putting that mask on) and an excited Lloyd jumping up and down on top of him.

Harry groans, ushering his son off of his body so he can wither in pain.

"What is it Lloyd? You're going to wake up Spider-Man!" He says even though he knows that Louis is pretending to be asleep.

They must have given into their heavy eyes early in the morning, too tired to have enough self control to stay awake in a comfortable bed. Couch. Whatever.

"Spider-Man can wait Daddy, there's fairies in my room!" Lloyd shrieks, yanking on Harry's hand. Harry ignores the throbbing from his crotch and stands to his feet. There's no cracking or popping from his bones.

"Do you have the nets?" Harry yawns, rubbing his eyes. The numbing effects of the drugs have worn off, leaving him a sleepy mess.

"Of course! _Come on_!" Harry is forced into a slow jog to keep up with Lloyd's sprint to his bedroom.

Fairy hunting is a weekly thing in the Styles' household. The man that rents them the apartment left out the tiny detail that there are mythical creatures living in the vents. Lloyd discovered the fairies one day after going to the zoo. He saw the trail of glitter beginning in the kitchen and leading into his bedroom, and the rest is history.

Harry pats his pocket to confirm that all of the hustling hasn't revealed the bag of colorful glitter in his trousers. He planted a trail of it just an hour prior to Lloyd waking up.

"Get the eye protection!" Harry calls frantically as they enter the Spider-Man themed room. "Don't let them get fairy dust in your eyes!" He shouts.

Lloyd hurriedly digs out two pairs of swimming goggles from his trunk of toys, handing one to Harry. They're far too tight and it's amazing that the many sessions of use haven't popped the band, but Harry yanks them on anyways.

With the goggles on and the butterfly nets in their hands, Lloyd and Harry stand back to back in their defensive stance.

"Onwards!" Lloyd yells as a battle cry and then they're spreading the glitter everywhere with their rapid steps and swinging the nets wildly.

Spider-Man enters the room with a sluggish step, deep breathing to let Harry know that he's still half asleep. Harry can only imagine how sexy he looks with glitter in his hair, goggles meant for children making his cheeks pudgy and his butterfly net in his hand.

Lloyd doesn't hesitate when he sees the superhero in the doorway.

"We'll protect you, Spider-Man! Stay back and don't let the fairies bite you!" The strange thing is that Louis doesn't even flinch at the mention of fairies. Harry likes him a little bit more because of it.

"I'm going to go make toast, is that okay?" Louis asks, his voice still slightly husky from last night. His Spider-Man imitation is a bit off this morning.

"Can't talk, catching fairies!" Harry emphasizes his point by slicing the air with his professional fairy catcher.

"Okay, Mr. Crocker," Spider-Man laughs before exiting Harry's line of sight.

\---

"I take it that you didn't capture the fairies?" Louis calls from over his shoulder. Harry hears a ding and a pop as two pieces of bread finish toasting.

Lloyd, still wearing the goggles on his head and dragging the net defeatedly behind him, frowns deeply.

"No. They got away. Again," the child pouts. Louis makes a face to mirror Lloyd's and then holds the food behind his back.

"Good thing I've got my secret weapon," Spider-Man whispers slyly as to not reach any fairy ears.

Lloyd immediately brightens up, hopping into the tall chair attached to the island.

"What is it Spider-Man?"

Louis lays the plate on the counter in front of Lloyd. Harry sees that Spider-Man found his food coloring, smearing colors onto the toast. Some are just random patterns with red, yellow, and blue, but most of the toast has a big, colorful S on it.

"Is the S for Styles or Spider-Man?" Lloyd questions brilliantly. The tufts of hair above his ears are sticking out wildly from the way his goggles are pinching the side of his face.

Louis makes a shocked gesture with his hands.

"Styles of course! You two are the real heroes here!" He chuckles, causing Lloyd to follow suit.

"Now," Spider-Man whispers, motioning Lloyd to get close. Harry's grateful for the orange flavoring in the Push Pops to hide the smell of weed on Louis' breath. "I'm going to tell you a secret to fairy-catching, but you've got to promise to keep it a secret, okay?"

Lloyd nods, desperate to rid the apartment of the pests.

"Do you see this powder on the bread?" Louis points a finger at the ingredient he's referring to. It's cinnamon. "It's harmless to us, but one bite of it from a fairy has them knocked out in a heartbeat. They can't resist it. If we lay these out around the building, we'll catch them for sure."

Lloyd looks at Spider-Man like he's just given him a ticket to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Harry prepares himself for a long day of fairy hunting.

\---

"I can't thank you enough," Harry expresses. Louis (Spider-Man) looks over Lloyd's shoulder as the child gives him a bear hug, his face turning red with the effort he's giving into the embrace.

"I had fun. Even if we couldn't catch those fairies," Louis chuckles, forcing regret to fill his sentence.

Lloyd lets go of Spider-Man and Harry's proud of him for not crying at Louis leaving.

"Goodbye Spider-Man. I've got to go set some more fairy traps now!" Lloyd gives Louis a high-five before taking a long look at the costume, drinking in his last moment with the superhero.

"Hey, I'll see you at school sometime, yeah?" Spider-Man promises, patting Lloyd on the back before the child is dashing down the hallway once again.

The two adults watch Lloyd until he's out of sight, fond radiating off of each of them. Louis turns to face Harry through the two black spots for eyes.

"You've got fairy dust in your hair," he chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Harry's curly fringe. Despite himself, Harry closes his eyes and leans into Louis' hand.

"Thanks," Harry expresses after the glitter is hopefully gone. "For everything. Most people wouldn't even think about doing what you did," he adds sincerely.

Louis stands onto his tiptoes as a show of embarrassment.

"Dressing up into a spandex suit for two days? Getting high with my student's father? Hunting fairies for hours? Don't humor yourself, Styles. This is just another weekend for me," Louis laughs.

Harry can't have his ego wounded like that without a repercussion. He glances down the hall to make sure that Lloyd's not visible at the moment. Louis' eyes are wide as Harry reaches around his neck to untie to mask, lifting the material slightly to reveal a patch of tanned skin.

"You do this with all of your student's parents?" Harry hums as his lips press against Louis' neck.

"Do you do this to all the superheroes you meet?" Louis tries to retort with a laugh but it's interrupted by the shiver that runs up his spine as Harry adds pressure with his lips.

"Mmh, is this okay?" Harry pauses briefly. Although it's nice to see Louis so stunned and affected, Harry doesn't want to do anything that Louis is uncomfortable with.

"Yeah. Just no marks." Louis' fingers find their way to Harry's hair, pulling him closer. Harry has déjà vu from last night, trying to get closer and closer to no avail.

Harry continues pressing kisses to Louis' neck, not stopping even when Louis begins talking. The vibrations of his voice travel to Harry's lips.

"What are you doing on Monday?" Harry pulls away from Louis' neck, his lips cooling down dramatically without the warmth of Louis' skin.

"Working, why?" If Harry didn't know any better he'd think that he was being invited to a date.

"I was just wondering if you'd want to volunteer for the class," Louis shrugs and Harry thinks that that's the biggest mood killer he's ever heard.

But why not. He's got vacation time saved up and enough to use a day and still have room in case Lloyd gets ill.

"It's a date, then." Harry ties Louis' mask back to its original state, making the strings into a pretty bow. Before he can stop himself he kisses Louis' cheek, a sharp contrast to the sensual way he was kissing his neck just moments ago.

"I hardly find cleaning crayon off the walls and laying out mats for nap time date-worthy material." There's a single minute that Louis and Harry spend just looking at each other, not able to pry their wandering eyes.

"See you Monday. Are you coming as Louis or Spider-Man?" Harry asks with a smile, careful to keep his voice low and away from the ears of the young boy.

"Hhm... It's a surprise. Bye Lloyd!" Spider-Man calls throughout the apartment, his voice changing tones halfway between talking to Harry and to Lloyd.

"Bye Spider-Man!"

\---

On Monday, Harry enters the classroom to see Louis Tomlinson wiping away red erasable marker off on the white board. His back is to Harry, which doesn't do any good to Harry's morals. Harry can't stop himself from ogling the bum on display, completely immersed in the way Louis' slacks hug him in the way that spandex can't. Spandex doesn't leave much for the imagination, but Harry's free to imagine all he wants when Louis wears those pants.

There's a tug on his hand and Harry is thrown back into reality. Lloyd breaks the connection with Harry to prance over to his teacher.

"Mr. Tomlinson, Spider-Man came over last weekend!" Lloyd grins proudly, eager to relive the moments that brought him so much happiness. Louis has the majority of his attention on Lloyd, who has just exploded into the story about colored toast, but he spares Harry a quick wink his way.

Harry picks up Lloyd's backpack from where the child dropped it on the ground in his fit of excitement. He hangs it up on the labeled hooks with every child's name on them.

Above the hooks are cubby holes for extra belongings. Harry spies crafts in the storage area above Lloyd's hook.

He begins rifling through the coloring pages, the homemade friendship bracelets and the macaroni necklaces. Lloyd's voice filters through his ears, and occasionally Louis', as the students begin to file in for class.

\---

"Honestly Harry what's with you and getting things in your hair?" Louis whispers as he pries dried paint out of Harry's curls. Harry is sitting at his feet with a bored expression, staring blankly at the wall of the supply closet.

It's nap time, and they're trying their best to be quiet as to not disturb the sleeping children outside the door. Harry's got a hand over his mouth to maintain his pained whimpers as Louis pulls at his hair.

"It's not my fault Jimmy flicked his paintbrush at my face!" Harry insists. Louis swats playfully at his arm.

"Be quiet you menace! You'll wake the children!" Louis scolds equally as loud. Harry folds his arms and probably looks like a pouty five year old, but Louis is treating him like a child. This teaching job has an effect on him.

"Be gentle, Lou," Harry whines without catching himself. They're at the nickname stage apparently.

Louis doesn't seem to mind, though, in fact he might actually like it. Harry can't see his face from this position to make an accurate judgement of this.

And then, Harry gets a brilliant idea that will cure his boredom and show Louis that Harry isn't a student that he can boss around.

Harry makes a 180 rotation, stopping when his face is in line with Louis' clothed cock. Louis freezes, his hands pausing their movement.

"Can I suck your cock?" Harry asks innocently, ignoring the irony between his tone and the context.

"Might as well make those lips useful for something other than whining," Louis croaks. Harry gives him points for coming up with a clever remark, but he gets negative marks for the presentation. He's flustered, and Harry hasn't even gotten his mouth on him yet.

Harry explores the span of Louis' pants, searching for the zipper. He cringes when the sound of the metal rubbing against itself makes a sound a bit too loud, but there's no shuffling from the children in the classroom.

Louis' hands, still gripping a handful of Harry's hair, separates their bodies with a gentle push. Does he want to stop?

"Wait," Louis tells Harry and Harry must contain his sigh of disappointment. He was eager to suck a dick, especially Louis'.

Louis doesn't zip his pants back up, doesn't send any other indication to tell Harry that he wants to stop. What he does do, though, is step back to twist the lock.

"We don't want to scar any young children," he explains with a smirk.

Harry gets on his knees for a wider range of motion, holding his hands out for Louis. Louis takes them and allows Harry to tug him closer, a smile on his face.

"This okay?" Harry looks up at Louis expectantly, his eyes wide with possibilities as his thumb brushes over the inside of Louis' left thigh. When he doesn't find what he's looking for, Harry switches to the right leg, feeling around for where Louis has stuffed himself.

Louis snaps at his lip the moment Harry finds him in his pants, his fingers tracing the shape of his semi.

"Just give me your mouth, Haz," He gasps and so, okay, they're definitely at the nickname stage.

Harry, because he's a tease, lifts the end of Louis' shirt and kisses the soft, shaven skin on Louis' stomach.

"Fucking menace," Louis repeats, chill bumps rising on his tanned belly. He's too shaken up to think of an unused vocabulary.

"Who's the one letting his student's father suck him off while his class is sleeping a few feet away?" Harry smirks, and okay that wasn't his best material but he's seconds away from having a cock in his mouth so he allows himself some slack.

"Are you trying to-" Louis' comeback is abruptly ended with a gasp as Harry plunges his hand into Louis' pants. His right hand pries the zipper open further and fools with the built in hole of Louis' briefs; his left hand busy with trying to find Louis' length.

Louis reaches behind him to desperately grab onto a shelf, a wall, anything. Harry sends him further into his state of bliss as his hands find Louis' cock, wrapping around the base. He follows it all the way to the tip where he then guides it through the opening he's make with the zipper.

A quick glance at Louis has a flush of pride swelling in Harry. His eyes are forced closed, his face turning red.

Harry frees Louis' out of his trousers, coming to face him for the first time.

He's not too long, but the thickness of him makes Harry's mouth water. A brief inspection shows that Harry can barely wrap his hand around the width.

"You're so pretty," Harry compliments. Louis can't seem to stop shaking, with pleasure or nervousness Harry can't tell.

Harry sits back on his heels, vowing to not continue this until Louis is calm. Being excited is one thing, but Louis is extremely overwhelmed. And Harry has morals, after all.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks quite ridiculously. Of course he's not okay.

Louis has a death grip on the shelf, knuckles white and breathing in erratic gasps. Harry knows what bliss looks like, and Louis isn't exactly the poster boy for it.

"Love you've got to talk to me. Do you want to stop?" Harry is careful to not hold any disappointment in his tone. He doesn't want Louis doing anything because he feels like he has to.

Slowly, Louis nods. His eyes still refuse to open.

Harry rests his hand on Louis' hips for comfort.

"I'm going to put you back in your pants, okay? Is that alright?" Harry suddenly feels lightyears away from Louis even though neither of them have moved. He doesn't know what he did wrong.

Louis gives him another nod, his hands going to cover his face. Harry tries to not touch Louis more than he has to as he rewinds the past ten minutes, tucking Louis' hard on back into his trousers and zipping him back up. Harry stands to his feet, his attention immediately zoning in on getting Louis' hands off of his face.

"Hey, hey, whatever it is, it's okay. You have the right to say no at anytime, and I'm glad that you told me when you wanted to stop. The bad thing here would be if you let this go on when you didn't want it to," Harry whispers. The whisper is for the frightened Louis, not the children.

Louis takes his hands off of his face, revealing the small amount of water pooling in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to! I do! It's just that..." Louis is clearly getting angry with himself, his cheeks turning pink with frustration now instead of lust.

"Take your time," Harry coaxes. He's surprised to find that he isn't feeling any disappointment from not getting to give a blowjob. Right now all he's thinking about is Louis.

"It would be fine if you were an arse, but you're not," Louis explains. Harry doesn't understand.

"Wha-"

"Sex, for me, is only okay when it doesn't mean anything. But with you it's...." Louis racks his brain for the right word. "More. I've been to your house and I've hung out with your kid. I've made you breakfast and hunted fairies with your family. It wouldn't just be a blowjob with you."

Harry doesn't understand at first. He shouldn't give Louis a blowjob because Louis thinks that it would be meaningful?

Then he remembers how Louis slept with a man for years without having an ounce of feeling. Louis is the one that doesn't trust because the last time he did he was rejected by his own family. Louis doesn't want to have these feelings towards Harry because he's afraid of getting hurt, and he has every reason to.

"I wouldn't hurt you, Louis," Harry promises, longing to wipe the liquid away from Louis' eyes. "I just wanted to make you feel good, is all."

Louis physically relaxes, but it's clear that Harry isn't getting in his pants anytime soon. Harry is oddly okay with that.

"I want to do those things with you, I do," Louis insists and Harry can't believe that they're having this conversation with four year olds in the next room. Then again he can. "But maybe we can just take one step at a time?"

Harry smiles as Louis takes his hand, his thumb running over Harry's.

"Whatever you're comfortable with is okay with me," Harry agrees. He's just glad that Louis isn't on the verge of a breakdown anymore.

Louis lays a hand on Harry's cheek, guiding his lips to his own. Harry's tentative at first, but Louis seems to insist Harry into the kiss by his tongue on Harry's lower lip.

"You promise you're not going to do anything because you feel obligated to?" Harry needs to be reassured that Louis isn't doing this for Harry's needs.

"I promise," Louis smiles genuinely, their lips finding each other again.

It's slow in the beginning, soft lips against each other, shy licks into the opposite's mouth. Louis' hand travels down to Harry's (lack of) bum and squeezes. He stops the kiss as if he just remembered something.

"Harry?" Louis raises an eyebrow. "Where are your hands?"

Harry looks over Louis' shoulder to see that he's got his hands intertwined behind Louis' back.

"Um..." Harry is confused, not seeing anything wrong with the position.

Louis huffs, his hands reaching behind him to slide Harry's hands down to the curve of his bum.

"I'm a teacher. Not a saint," Louis chuckles. Harry shrugs, completely content with this way also.

Harry gasps as Louis juts his hips out, coming in contact with Harry's hips.

"Still hard?" Harry smirks, rolling his hips around to get a better feel of the situation. Louis doesn't allow Harry to move from that point of contact, their hips tightly flushed.

Louis nips at Harry's earlobe, his breath warm on Harry's neck as he speaks.

"Make me come like this," He whispers to Harry like it's a secret for just the two of them.

Harry swallows thickly, nodding as his way of accepting the task. Louis is submissive at his touch, his body curving into every crevice of Harry's. Harry knows that they're on a time limit and the children are bound to wake up in a few minutes, so he doesn't waste any time with teasing.

Louis' lips are soft but rough against Harry's, his desperation radiating from his tanned skin. Harry rolls his hips forward, a quiet moan resulting from Louis.

He creates a rhythm with that motion, Louis meeting him halfway with impatience. Eventually Louis can't focus enough to maintain the kiss so he is content with resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder.

They have matching noises escaping their lips, so close that it's difficult to tell when one of them ends and the other begins. Harry rests his head on the side of Louis', sweat beginning to form on his skin with the effort he's putting forth for the two of them.

Louis' back is against the wall and Harry's only pressing him into it, chasing his release along with Louis' as well.

"Just think about where we are, Haz," Louis whispers. Harry is reminded of reality, and oh, they're at a school. Harry groans at that, pushing his hips into Louis with extra force. The friction is limited with the clothes between them but Harry's already to the brink of his orgasm. "At a school. During school hours with a class next door."

Louis tosses a leg around Harry's waist and Harry sees stars. He didn't think it was possible to be closer but Louis has done exactly that, his heel pressed against the small of Harry's back.

Harry imagines the same thing but with him fucking into Louis, clothes gone and nothing but intimacy between them. Maybe then he'd be satisfied with the distance between them, as close as two human beings can be.

Until then, though, he's content with the dry rutting. Louis is too, obviously, for a minute later he's going limp in Harry's arms and spilling into his clothes. Harry closes his eyes and then he's coming also, the feeling of his load in his underwear extremely uncomfortable.

He holds Louis until the teacher can gain solid footing. Louis' cheeks are still flushed, his breathing still frantic, but it's all for good reasons now.

"You good?" Harry half jokes, completely aware that Louis is perfect at the moment. He's recovering from his post-orgasm haze too.

Louis looks down to where his come has begun to leak through the fabric.

"I've made a mess of my trousers," he huffs. Harry presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey, I only followed my orders." Harry's feeling extra giddy. He's just had an orgasm with Louis Tomlinson.

Louis shrugs.

"I'll just have to be Spider-Man for the rest of the day. You, on the other hand, may want to go home and change."

\---

Spider-Man is on the couch Friday night when Harry returns from the loo, expecting to see Lloyd where he left him during Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Considering that Harry's apartment consisted of zero superheroes before he excused himself to wee, Harry's mildly confused as to why Spider-Man is suddenly here.

Harry has recently declared Friday nights as movie nights, going as far as inviting Louis at the end of the school day that Harry volunteered for. Louis hadn't given a definite answer, though. Harry had wondered if it had anything to do with the uncomfortable situation Louis was in (spandex without underwear has to rub in places that it really shouldn't), but he wasn't positive.

Either way, he wasn't expecting to see the superhero in his apartment tonight. Harry runs a hand through his hair and vaguely wonders how his life has developed to the point of having Marvel characters on his furniture.

"Don't get me wrong, Spider-Man, it's good to see you, but Lloyd, we don't open the door when Daddy's not there, okay? What if it wasn't Spider-Man?" Louis has an arm draped over the back of the area of the couch that Lloyd's head is resting, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Sorry about that," Louis apologizes in his Spider-Man voice. Lloyd, however, doesn't seem sorry.

"He said that it was him!" The child insists. Harry huffs and sits down on the other side of Lloyd. Immediately there's a clothed finger running along his shoulder, the movement delicate and discrete. Harry's mind is suddenly wiped clean from the scolding he had intended.

"So what movie are we watching?" Spider-Man pipes up, his index finger resting on Harry's sleeve.

\---

"He hasn't had one of his breakdowns since you've been a part of his life," Harry whispers as he looms over the bed in which Lloyd is sound asleep in. Spider-Man carefully pries the child's fingers off of his shirt, moving cautiously in case that Lloyd isn't fully asleep.

"Since Spider-Man has been in his life," Louis corrects, his voice shifting back to normal. Harry leads the way out of the bedroom and through the living room, plopping his bum down on the sofa. Louis sits down close to Harry, his left leg hitching up to rest over Harry's right.

"No. He's gotten to where he talks about Mr. Tomlinson just as much as he does Spider-Man," Harry replies truthfully. Everyday after coming home from school Lloyd's all about how his teacher let them go outside for an hour longer than usual, how Mr. Tomlinson bought them a football to play with. Spider-Man just isn't as popular as he was before.

Louis has a strange look on his face, a mixture of pride and disbelief. He doesn't know how amazing he is.

"I, on the other hand, happen to like Spider-Man  _much_ better," Harry jokes, knocking Louis' leg off of his for the time being and walking around the couch. He halts behind Louis, reaching behind the man to untie the mask.

"I wasn't joking about you being a menace, Harold." Harry smiles at that. He reaches to grasp the frayed ends of the mask, worn from consistent use. Louis' eyes don't disappoint as they come into view. They're as blue as ever, sharp with intensity. Harry tosses the mask somewhere on the couch in the mess of blankets, his hands trailing a flat line down Louis' chest.

Louis realizes what Harry's doing as Harry's doing it, leaning down to meet Louis' lips with his chin brushing against Louis' nose.

"This is so cliché-" Louis attempts at acting uninterested but the tight muscles in his lips suggest otherwise. Harry must tilt and lean a bit to conquer this angle, Louis' impatience shining through with his hands gripping the blankets.

"The Spider-Man kiss is a classic!" Harry defends as he comes up for air. Louis' hands are reaching up for a grip on his curls, though, and Harry can't resist as he's pulled back under.

It's definitely different, Harry doesn't quite know where to slot his tongue and Louis seems just as clueless despite the occupation as Spider-Man. Harry feels like a teenager all over again with how they're licking into each other's mouths sloppily, lips clashing with teeth and a few kisses misplaced onto the other's chin. Louis laughs breathlessly as Harry attempts to nibble at his lip but instead bites his own, sucking it into his mouth to soothe the pain before Louis does it for him. Louis tastes like the gummy worms they ate earlier and it's pleasantly overwhelming as he arches his back off of the couch.

"Spider-Man still had his mask on in the movie," Louis breathes, his thumbs tracing circles onto the skin of Harry's chin.

"Perhaps now would be the time to admit that I might, just might, like Louis Tomlinson better." Harry tries to return to kissing Louis' thin lips, but he's restrained by a firm grip. Louis' eyes, however, are so soft that Harry feels weak.

"Harry..." Louis sighs with longing, his pupils expanding throughout the blue of his eyes. With his bitten lips and pink cheeks, Louis is practically radiating lust.

"Do you-" Louis begins, his accent thick in the air and clear in the muscles of his jaw. Harry raises an eyebrow, but then he hears it.

There's footsteps coming down the hall.

"Daddy?" A sleepy, innocent voice calls from far too close. In a flash Louis' hands are off of Harry, Harry stumbling back from the scene. He wipes at his lips to rid of the bit of saliva there, running his hands down his shirt to smooth the folds and wrinkles.

Harry dashes to the child that arrives in the living room, desperate to save everything that is about to crumble in front of him. He can hear Louis fumbling through the blankets in search for the mask, but it's no use. It's too late.

Harry watches in horror as the face of his sleepy son transforms from the confused expression, his eyes landing on Louis. He looks puzzled until his vision travels down to the red, webbed costume from the neck down on Louis' body.

"Mr. Tomlinson...?" Lloyd whispers quietly. Harry can physically feel his heart shatter despite the lack of volume in the boy's words. This can't happen; Lloyd was getting better. His eyes weren't completely dead anymore, he played and talked, the hysterical outbursts were a rarity.

"Lloyd, it's me, Spider-Man just left-" Louis attempts with a pained expression. He's helpless and at the moment now Harry is too.

"No!" Lloyd screams, his shrill voice cracking despite the simplicity of the word. Harry hurries over to him, knowing the signs of a breakdown and recognizing them in the way Lloyd's tiny fists curl in on themselves. He's shaking, tears forming in his heartbroken eyes.

"Loy, it's okay. It's okay, just let me explain, baby I-"

"You lied!" Lloyd shouts equally as loud. "Spider-Man isn't real!"

Harry knew that this would happen some time in the future if him and Louis continued... whatever they have now. He didn't want the secret to come out like this, though, he wanted to wait until Lloyd was ready-

The child is small for his age, but as he takes one last pitiful, tearful look at Harry in his Spider-Man pajamas and then escapes down the hall, he looks smaller than ever.

\---

A look of horror passes between Louis and Harry before Harry dashes down the hall after Lloyd, following the child's broken sobs. An angry scream echoes throughout the apartment.

Harry reaches the doorway just as Lloyd's Spider-Man lamp is thrown from the boy's hands and shattering onto the floor. Lloyd doesn't offer Harry an acknowledgment, only grabs a handful of the themed covers on his bed and rips the blankets off.

Harry rushes to Lloyd's side, wrapping the child into a bear hug that restrains his arms and doesn't allow him to do any further damage. Lloyd's body is shaking with hysteria. He's had these breakdowns before many times, but this is by far the worst Harry has experienced.

"He's not real, not real, lies, lies, lies," Lloyd cries, thrashing in Harry's arms. Harry feels tears in his own eyes at the way his son is completely broken. He had a lot invested in Spider-Man and now it's gone.

"Loy, do you know the story of Batman?" Harry asks in a soothing tone he didn't know he possessed. He sits on the edge of the bed, Lloyd stiff in his arms.

The crying continues, but Harry feels the boy's curls tickling his arms as he nods. Harry rocks back and forth, treating the four year old like a wailing baby. Lloyd isn't flailing in his arms anymore, but the crying persists at the same volume. Harry briefly wonders if this will be the same reaction when they have the talk about Santa.

"Well, he wasn't like Superman or Spider-Man. He wasn't from a foreign planet and he didn't get bit by any reactive spiders. He still wanted to help people, though, so do you know what he did? He built his own suit and did just that. He helped just as many people as Spider-Man and Superman, only without the powers." Lloyd must quiet his crying in order to hear, so word by word he slowly stops his hysteria. Harry waits a a moment, pressing a kiss to Lloyd's curls and running his hand up and down his son's arms. He sometimes forgets how young Lloyd is, with how his intellectual talent is higher than most students in his grade.

"And...?" Lloyd sniffs, not impatiently. He genuinely wants to know more.

"Batman had the title of a superhero just like Spider-Man because he earned it, not because he had similar powers. And, if you think hard enough, hasn't Lou- Mr. Tomlinson earned the same?" Hopefully Louis is still in the living room. Harry would feel terrible if he left. It's not his fault.

"I mean, you thought that Spider-Man was the one that played with you and baked you cookies, and that's why you loved him, right?" Harry asks tentatively, careful to not spark a bigger breakdown.

"But it was Louis," Lloyd answers, finally beginning to understand. Harry is surprised at his referral to Mr. Tomlinson as Louis.

"He was just wearing a mask, but he still did those things. And if you can love Spider-Man for that, shouldn't you love Louis for the same thing?" Harry explains. Lloyd is quiet for a long moment, his crying ending completely and the tears drying into the fabric of Harry's T-shirt.

"He lied," Lloyd finally answers into the silence. His voice is thick with tears.

"Batman kept his identity a secret! Louis was just doing the same thing is all."

"So I shouldn't be mad at Louis?" Lloyd leans away from Harry to look into his eyes. Harry mentally compared the dead, cold look in Lloyd's blue eyes that was present only a few months ago to the lively ones now. There's tears glistening over them now and clinging to his lashes, but there's life. Lloyd understands emotion and human feelings.

"You can decide what you want, but just remember that the Spider-Man you knew this entire time was Louis all along, doing those good things." Harry can't get over how... fatherly he sounds.

Lloyd nods, climbing out of Harry's lap to sit on the bed that is missing a comforter. Harry will have to wash it to get out all of the glitter from last week, because it has undoubtedly spread to the fabric from the floor. He tries not to dwell on it.

"Wait..." Lloyd says hesitantly, a hand scratching at his neck. "Does that mean that the Ninja Turtles aren't real either?"

\---

Harry returns to the living room with his son on his back, sticky fingers from the gummy worms holding onto his shoulders. He's pleased to see that Louis didn't leave, but the way he's got his head in between his knees worries Harry.

"Mr. Tomlinson! Mr. Tomlinson!" Lloyd calls from his high vantage point. The child kicks his legs wildly, signaling Harry that he wishes to be put down. Harry struggles to set the boy down safely before Lloyd is scurrying to Louis' side.

Harry is pleasantly surprised as Lloyd climbs onto the couch and lifts Louis' head with his small hands. Lloyd tosses a short leg over Louis waist so that his back is being supported by Louis' knees.

"Mr. Tomlinson," Lloyd whispers between them, holding Louis' hands in his own so that the grown man can't hide behind them. Harry notices that Louis was on the brink of tears while him and Lloyd were in Lloyd's bedroom.

"Hhm?" Louis hums nervously, his body still clothed in his Spider-Man costume. Harry wonders if the fond he feels is showing on his face. His two favorite people are in front of him, and although he longs to comfort Louis, he couldn't be happier.

Lloyd puts his mouth to Louis' ear, whispering something that Harry only barely catches.

"You're a superhero."

\---

"Is he really asleep this time?" Louis, not Spider-Man (Harry doesn't think he'll ever be the superhero again), asks as Harry returns to the living room. Lloyd had begged to stay up with Louis and Harry for a few more minutes, and the two had reluctantly agreed. The child most likely wouldn't have been able to sleep with the new reveal on his mind anyway.

"I might have mentioned something about going to the zoo tomorrow if he sleeps," Harry shrugs guiltily. He does plan on going to the zoo, but it makes him feel dirty when he bribes his son.

Harry plops down on the couch next to Louis, running a hand through his curls and staring numbly at the tv. It's on a football game at the moment, and while Harry recalls Louis mentioning an interest in footy, Harry notices that he isn't paying attention either. A thick, awkward silence fills the room.

Harry isn't aware that he's bouncing his knee out of anxiety until there's a hand on it. He looks up at Louis, who gives an apologetic smile and removes his hand.

"Sorry," Harry blushes, suddenly feeling like a teenager on a first date.

"'S alright," Louis chuckles. The silence looms over them, threatening to make an appearance again before Louis gratuitously interrupts it.

"I should go..." He trails, beginning to stand to his feet. Harry didn't expect that, just assuming that Louis would stay the night again. He was unaware of how lonely he was before Louis came into his life, before he could text him at any moment with a guaranteed response, before he had an actual friend.

That's the thing though. Harry doesn't want to be just friends. He wants more, he longs for a title to make him feel a sense of belonging.

"Or you could stay," Harry suggests embarrassingly quickly. Louis sighs in relief, relaxing back into the cushions.

"You're giving me mixed signals, Styles." Harry turns on his side to face Louis. Louis raises an eyebrow and he knew what Harry was doing the previous time they kissed but he's clueless as Harry lunges for his neck.

Harry's lips make a smacking sound as he makes quick work to Louis' skin, the kisses prominent but gently applied. Louis' back hits the comfortable seating and his arms reach around Harry to run along his back, soothing motions that has Harry practically purring to his touch.

"Are you understanding?" Harry teases, his lips wet with his own saliva. He resumes his work, leading a trail of kisses from Louis' collarbone to his ear and then to his jaw.

"Loud and clear," Louis replies shakily, tugging on Harry's hair until their lips are forced together. Louis makes a pleased sound into Harry's mouth, his lips immediately opening for Harry's tongue.

Harry is content with kissing, but after a while of gasps and the use of teeth and constant tugging from Louis, Harry feels Louis' erection pressing into his inner thigh. He feels lightheaded from the sexual potential at hand.

Harry slides a knee between Louis' legs, offering up his thigh for Louis' pleasure. Louis makes a surprised sound at the contact but stays still from the waist down (despite the twitch in his trousers).

"Go ahead," Harry coaxes. "If you want to, you can do it." To make his point he grinds his own hips down onto Louis' thigh. He's sporting a hard on as well.

Louis decides to go all out, wrapping his ankles around Harry's right leg and thrusting up with everything he has, immediately falling into a hard, fast rhythm that has him breathless. Harry watches intently as Louis falls apart under him, their faces inches apart but neither of them making a move to kiss the other. Louis' eyes squeeze shut with tremendous force, his teeth biting at his bottom lip. Small sounds are emerging from his throat and escaping through his mouth.

"So pretty, baby, becoming a mess right before my eyes," Harry praises without meaning to. He needs to voice his thoughts, though, or he feels like he may explode.

"Hmmmhh," Louis groans, still rutting against Harry's thigh. It takes Harry a moment to realize that he's trying to say Harry's name. "Don't want to come like this," he says with great effort, detaching his crotch from Harry's jeans.

Harry himself is out of breath as he leans down to peck the end of Louis' nose.

"How, then?" He asks, eager to know the answer and then to please.

"Could you, maybe like, give me a blowjob? If you're okay with it, that is," Louis rushes to add. Harry's past intentions to tease Louis for twitching in his pants leave his mind completely as he does the same thing, the excitement overwhelming.

"Thought you'd never ask. Although, perhaps this isn't the place to do that."

\---

Harry's room is nothing to show off. With Lloyd's interest in Spider-Man themed items, Harry is unable to purchase anything that isn't absolutely necessary for himself. He hasn't noticed the lack of decor until he comes to the realization that he's just invited Louis into a bare room spare a mattress on the floor and a closet door.

"Erm," Harry mumbles, kicking at a stray converse in the middle of the floor. "We could go back into the living room if you want." He has a sudden urge to hide his face.

Louis doesn't say anything at first, but Harry feels a hand grip his wrist and slide four fingers down until their hands are intertwined.

"It's perfect," Louis smiles and Harry believes his words within a split second.

Harry pulls Louis' hand towards the mattress, maintaining intimate eye contact as he sits down on the edge of the pathetic piece of furniture. Louis squeezes Harry's hand softly, words going unspoken between the two. His hands snake into Harry's curls as his body moves forward into the space Harry has made with his open legs.

"Harry?" Louis whispers. Harry isn't sure if he kept his volume low for Lloyd or if he's just nervous for what is about to happen.

"Yes, love?" Harry tries the pet name out. He deems it a good word choice when Louis smiles.

"I wanted to make a proposition." Louis shivers so Harry tugs him into his lap, reaching for the blanket behind him to drape over their shoulders.

"And what would that be?" Harry smiles, genuinely curious.

Louis is distracted with one of Harry's curls for a moment, pulling the piece of hair down and grinning when it springs back into place. Harry gives him time to form his words.

"Well, we've both shown interest in each other and get along brilliantly. I was thinking that it would be a good idea to maybe, if you want to of course, be, erm. Boyfriends." Louis' fingers fiddle with Harry's nervously, as if Harry has any intention of turning down this beautiful boy in his lap.

"Boyfriends," Harry repeats. He nods at the thought. "I'd love to be your boyfriend, Louis."

Louis' face looks like the actual sun in that moment. Harry, because he's only a person, can't resist kissing Louis. His boyfriend.

Louis parts his lips first, inviting Harry to lick into his mouth enthusiastically. Harry feels Louis' hands run along the span of his back, fingertips ghosting across the faint outline of his spine.

Harry's confused when he feels Louis slide further into his chest, his feet sliding back to brush across Harry's.

"I'm telling you to lay down, you dork," Louis chuckles, his breathing irregular. Harry begins to apologize before being interrupted by a rough collision of lips against his. He supports their bodies with stiff arms behind him, Louis latched onto him the entire time.

Once Harry's back is flushed with the rumpled sheets, Louis shuffles down so that their crotches are in line. The teacher mouths at Harry's neck, working the skin into his mouth with a skill that has the pale tan blooming into a deep purple within seconds.

Harry frowns, laying his hand on the mark.

"No fair," he pouts. "I can't make one on you." Louis knows very well that Harry possesses the knowledge to, but they can't have the students asking about the suspicious bruises on Louis. He could create one in a discrete place, but the fun is in the way people stare at the mark and wonder silently who created it.

Louis runs his thumb along Harry's cheek, making eye contact that has his knees weak. He wants Harry to feel how confident he is when he says it-

"You could fuck me instead," Louis whispers, smiling at the way Harry's eyes widen drastically. Doubt immediately fills Harry's features, but Louis is quick to catch it.

"I've thought a lot about us, Harry, and realized that I wasn't afraid of commitment. I was afraid of getting hurt. It was hard for me to come to terms with having to give myself towards a relationship, but I want to do that with you. I don't want to have regrets because I am being too cautious." Louis makes his point by resting their foreheads together, blinking slowly under the weight of their gaze.

"Being cautious isn't bad, Lou," Harry breathes. It's clear that he wants this, though, in his blown pupils and flushed cheeks. Louis swivels his hips, feeling the thick tent in Harry's pants.

"I want you and you want me. I won't regret that," he presses. Harry searches his eyes for a hint of doubt. Louis waits for his decision.

"Okay," Harry says after a while. "Just try not to be too loud, we're not really alone. Sorry," he chuckles, worried that the mention of his son will kill the mood.

"Oh, confident I see? I'm not worried about making any noise," Louis teases, a wild glint in his eye.

Harry lays his hands on Louis' back for support as he flips them over, the man's heels digging into his spine. He doesn't attempt at much foreplay, knowing how Louis will be pushed over the edge quite easily after the rutting on the couch.

Their lips clash with a fiery energy, heads tilted for an opportune access into the other's mouth. Lips are bitten, tongues are sucked, breaths are shared. Louis shivers with the pleasure striking through his body as Harry leans too far into him and their crotches brush.

"Lube..." He whimpers, and oh, Harry's going to have a hard time being quiet himself.

Harry removed himself from Louis' body, climbing out of the bed and onto the cold wooden floors. He snaps a harsh "no" at Louis when he paws at his momentarily abandoned erection.

"That is mine," Harry claims. Louis huffs but obeys his wishes while the lube and condom is fetched.

Harry returns with a satisfied grin on his face. Louis' fists are clenching onto the sheets, his lips red with the severity of his bites and a whimper erupting from his throat.

"Harry... Harry. Haz..." Louis gasps, grinding his bum onto the mattress as if that would insinuate a dick up his arse.

Harry silences him by hovering over his body, kissing his lips with a desperation that shows in the way their lips fit with fury.

"I will, I will..." Louis' hands fumble with Harry's belt, the trembling proving to be too much to operate properly. Harry takes matters into his own hands and has his trousers off in no time.

"What if you kept this on, hmm? Let me fuck you while wearing it? You could go to school tomorrow, and the students would never know that just the night before you had these flushed cheeks, begging to be ruined..." Harry makes his point by pinching the man's cheeks.

"Harry..." Louis moans before being interrupted by Harry's warm hands at his zipper. The material is being pushed off of his shoulders soon enough, his tanned skin irresistible to Harry's mouth. He's incapable of keeping his lips off of Louis' neck, his shoulders, his chest.

"Keep it on," Louis smiles, his hands stopping Harry's from tugging the suit off further. Harry smiles back, his hand running down the length of Louis' back. He's granted a sharp cry when Louis is thrown off guard by Harry's fingers prodding at his bum, already slicked up. There's hands at the side of Harry's face, pulling him into Louis' lips as the teacher murmurs _please, please, please..._

Harry presses in until his knuckle is flushed with Louis' rim. He moves around experimentally, searching for the spot that will have Louis shuddering.

"Harry... two... not gonna last... wanna come with you inside me..." Louis groans, his hands pulling Harry closer.

Harry inserts another finger, thrusting in and out with the same motion he would use if he was fucking Louis. He scissors his index and middle finger, determined to open Louis up to his satisfaction.

"Does it hurt?" He asks when Louis makes a long stripe up Harry's torso with his nails. Louis sucks on his lip, admitting a small nod.

"It does, a bit, but I don't mind. Really." Louis makes his point by swiveling his hips down onto Harry's fingers. His eyes flutter shut as he's hit with a wave of pleasure, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

"There it is," Harry hums as his lips return to Louis' neck.

The next few pumps of Harry's hand has Louis curling into his boyfriend's chest, desperate to get closer to Harry yet torn between wanting the pleasure of his fingers.

"Three, fuck. Harry do three," Louis chants, nuzzling his nose into Harry's shirt. Harry wants to cuddle him until they're both fast asleep in each other's arms but at the same time he longs to fuck him into oblivion.

Harry does as he's told, wanting selfishly for Louis to collapse further into him.

"I love seeing you like this," Harry murmurs into Louis' ear. He groans as there's a small hand grasping his crotch.

"I'm ready, Harry please. Now... I'm ready," Louis cries out, and somehow Harry knows that he means more than being fingered open.

"Put the condom on me, yeah?" Harry gasps, knowing very well how to put a condom on. He doesn't want to admit that he can't think straight with Louis' hand on him.

"Yeah, okay." There's sweat on Louis' brow, his pupils wide with lust.

His hands are shaking as he pulls the rubber over Harry's hard-on, pinching the tip to create a part of the condom that isn't otherwise filled with Harry's dick. Harry reaches behind Louis to push the outfit just below Louis' bum, spreading his cheeks and running his finger over Louis.

"Okay," Louis nods. Harry kisses him long and soft for good measure, his lips promising him that he'll be taken care of.

"Do you want to do it on your back or on top of me? Personally I think that on the knees is a bit insensitive," Harry shrugs. Louis runs his thumb over Harry's lips as he's deciding.

"I want to look at you while we're having sex," Louis whispers while looking into Harry's eyes. "On top of you," he concludes.

Harry nods with enthusiasm, flipping them over with care. He's able to have access to Louis' bum while still having the Spider-Man outfit on, which provides a guilty pleasure in seeing his son's teacher ride him.

Louis surprises him by grasping Harry in his hand, condom on, and applying lube onto his shaft.

"Louis, tell me that you want this, please. I need to hear it," Harry groans. He doesn't care that he sounds needy, he needs confirmation that Louis wants this as much as he does.

"I want it, Harry. So fucking much. I want to be close with you, as close as we can get." Louis kisses Harry's lips one more time, maintaining the contact without putting forth any skill into the kiss.

Harry makes a sound that resembles a growl when he's finally inside of Louis, the warmth overwhelming to the point of coming on the spot. Louis must force himself to continue sitting down on Harry's lap, the burn satisfying and the pleasure nearly unbearable.

Once he's all the way down, their chests flushed together and their bodies finally one, Harry tilts his chin up into the kiss. It's not impressive by any means, but it's intimate and everything they need.

"Harry? Fuck me," Louis drawls, his fingers already clawing down Harry's clothed chest. He wants to leave marks, though, so his hands quickly trail themselves under Harry's shirt.

Harry is quick to react after that, the feeling of Louis' skin on his intoxicating and sending him into a frenzy. He's snapping his hips up sharply before he realizes that he should be gentle, that he should be careful with Louis. He slows down into a slow fuck, his body deep into Louis as he creates a slow, intimate pace.

"Yeah...." Louis sighs as he's reaching the brink of an orgasm.

"So pretty," Harry praises as his lips desperately try making contact with every inch of skin he can find. Louis doesn't respond with words, only sits down further onto Harry and looks contently at the large hands gripping his hips, lifting him away from Harry's warmth only to pull him back down onto him.

"Harry... I-" Louis whimpers, burying his head into Harry's chest. Harry hitches Louis' leg up to reach a better angle, holding down Louis' hips onto him as deep as possible while Louis' body shutters as he comes.

They hold onto each other with need and desperation as Harry comes also, their bodies finally close enough. Harry sighs as he feels Louis' come begin to soak through his shirt. It's probably also staining the Spider-Man outfit, but that's okay. Harry has known it all along- Louis is a superhero without the costume.

"Spider-Man, who?"

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Sorry it was so long, I meant it to be a short thing to write over break but it kept going, idk. You can find me on twitter @craictown (there's actually two authors but the second's twitter can't be announced because she has followers from school and so yeah) !! Thanks for reading!! xx


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